4
The black sports car appeared in her rear-view mirror, coming up behind her fast and she instantly tensed back up, teeth gritting and eyes narrowing angrily. Putting the foot down, she sped away from him before reaching the sign for the town and slowing back down again as she passed it. Completely pointless, but satisfying to say the least, riled by the way this man made her feel. Throwing daggers from her eyes in the mirror, she slowed to thirty and meandered through town looking for a car park as the car behind her turned off at the huge museum; she sighed with relief at his departure.
Hot or not, I don’t need you behind me today!
‘Asshole.’ She muttered to no one in particular and hit the indicator to turn into a big half empty car park. Within minutes Rose found a space easily and expertly deposited her car, latching Muffins lead on and exiting gracefully with a much sunnier disposition.
Although the town was bustling with pedestrians, it seemed most came via a little free bus from surrounding areas and not many drove. The streets were quiet from traffic and felt peaceful, despite the people milling around. Wandering about, she soon managed to navigate her surroundings, quaint little shops ranging from the normal grocery stores to little cute boutiques, home decor, crafts and tourist shops. Several cafes and a huge bakery shop that sat very close to the car park she had used.
It was a pretty and picturesque little town, lots of barrels filled with flowers and park benches to pretty it up and lots of potted trees and quaint old-fashioned street lamps. It was more beautiful than even her memories and she could see the appeal for tourists. This was proper highland charm right here.
She decided to browse the shops first, before going in pursuit of the church she had yet to see, buying the odd necessity and really getting a feel for the place. Rose was happy to find, that although it wasn’t exactly the small town of her childhood memories, it was enough unchanged that she got a familiar tug of emotion deep in the pit of her stomach; just the same. This had been Olivia’s favourite place, she would have loved to see that it was thriving but still held all the same charm as before, as though caught in a time warp.
After successfully not finding the church in the small town and seeing a lack of mulling locals Rose decided to head to the coffee shop, situated in the bakery to rest her weary feet. It wasn’t sign posted and there were no obvious roofs rising above the rest to indicate where the church would be. She had put Muffin back in the car with a bowl of water, a new bone, the windows opened and the radio on, before coming to get something to eat and ask for directions.
She was sure that in this little place, her car and the dog, would be safe from a break in. Besides, her alarm was loud and immobilised her car easily and although Muffin wasn’t much of a guard dog, he did have this incredibly scary toothy face he pulled when he was frightened and tried his version of a broken growl. If nothing more, it would scare away any lingerers; It did make him look a little rabid and possibly mentally unhinged.
As soon as she opened the door, the smell of newly baked bread and fancies hit her like a warm hug. She wanted to fall into that smell, it was so heavenly and had memories flooding back and filling her up with so much warmth, chasing away the last ounces of anger. She could almost feel herself transported back to her childhood and eagerly swept in to see if they still stocked her favourite cakes.
The tables were almost all empty with the odd couple or group, sitting far apart, quietly chatting and oblivious to her entrance. There was a relaxed, friendly atmosphere, despite being a complete stranger here and she felt better that no one was openly staring and pointing as she had feared.
The girl behind the counter, dressed in a green uniform reminiscent of school dinner ladies smiled at Rose as she approached, with no expression other than friendly.
‘Hi there, what can ah get for yeh today?’ The girl asked in a polite, yet very heavily accented brogue that suggested she had grown up in the farms surrounding the town.
‘Hi, can I have a jam tart and a hot chocolate please. Thank you.’ Rose smiled back and pulled her purse from her shoulder bag, breathing in the fresh ground coffee bean smell wafting her way.
‘Sure thing, will just be two ticks for yeh.’ The girl turned on her heel and moved off to arrange Rose’s order on a tray, allowing her a moment to properly look around the clean surroundings.
Glancing around she took in the bright, simple decor, the mint coloured walls and dark wood floor which all seemed new. The cases of fancy patisseries and treats and the huge display case, showcasing elaborately decorated cakes for seasons and celebrations. It didn’t have small town oozing from it and it saddened Rose a little. This bakery had been one of her favourite places to come on a weekend with her aunt, back when it had been a small corner shop and not the huge one she now stood within.
The bakery her aunt had loved had been small and quaint and had obviously grown into the neighbouring shops over time, to accommodate more seating and bigger kitchens. The woman who used to run it had been an Italian woman called Bella. A large round warm lady who had enveloped little Rose in cuddles and always satisfied her sweet tooth with a cream cake when they had come. Rose guessed this is what success looked like when a small-town bakery managed to keep going for decades. As she looked around at the modern art, and clean, simple window dressings, Rose was suddenly aware of the young woman at the window table, smiling at her openly.
Rose glanced away awkwardly, assuming she was smiling to someone behind Rose, but a quick look showed no one had come in behind her and she was the only one standing there. Rose looked back again, catching the girl’s eye and gained another bright smile. This time Rose smiled back and returned her gaze to the counter as her hot chocolate and strawberry tart was placed on the tray in front of her. Rose took the little round wooden tray with its paper lace doily and moved off, looking to choose a seat. The girl beckoned to her with a waving hand, catching her eye and tapped the table, showing she was offering her a seat. Rose hesitated, then followed the gesture and approached shyly
‘Hi.’ She got close and slid her tray on the table opposite the dark-haired stranger.
‘Hi, there.’ The girl smiled the most dazzling smile Rose had ever seen, all perfect straight white teeth and pretty, pouted lips, although there was something vaguely familiar about it. She had long black hair, the colour of raven feathers, pale flawless skin with peachy blushed cheeks and dazzling green eyes that sparkled out at you mischievously. She was dressed casually, and it made her appear very young. She was young, maybe in her early twenties or late teens and stunningly beautiful in a casual, naïve, sort of way.
She extended her hand announcing her name was Abby, Abigail but everyone called her Abby. That she was killing time and could do with the company.
‘I’m Rose Turner, I just moved into the little cottage at the main road as you enter the village.’ She smiled back at the pretty face and saw her nod, hinting she knew exactly which cottage.
‘It’s really nice to see a new young face, especially a girl. We don’t get many new comers.’ Abby beamed her way, lifting her mug and sipping down some coffee; Rose felt an instant ease with this girl, a genuine friendliness.
Conversation soon began to flow, and Abby told Rose she was studying art history, held up textbooks from the seat beside her as if to prove her story was legit. There was a book face down on the table in front of her, and a plate with a half-eaten chocolate doughnut and now empty coffee mug. She was waiting for her brother, collecting her after four and loved to spend her free time in Bella’s bakery. Rose absolutely loved this girls down to earth, straight shooting attitude and genuine openness, she had always found the people in this village to be like this.
Rose was thrilled to hear Bella was still around and still owned this place. She learned that Abby was nineteen and incredibly easy to talk to, sweet and genuine. That despite looking very young, she was very mature and well spoken, her accent although typical for around here, had a slight upper-class clearness to it, much like the male strangers this morning.
The girls found conversation flowed effortlessly and had an immediate connection, both were artists and loved to paint! Both obsessed with the Sunflower painting by Van Gogh and both didn’t like abstract art in the slightest. Abby ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over Roses dress and almost died of envy when she told her that her car was pink too.
‘Rob told me he’d never let me have a pink car.’ She laughed ‘He said it would embarrass his manly self to take it for maintenance. Of course, because I would be completely incapable of doing such things; being a woman!’ She joked with a slow shake of her head, and a sigh. An obvious look of sibling love in her eyes when she said his name.
‘So, Rob is your brother?’ Rose enquired, trying to imagine her own older brothers being that way so many years before. It had been a long time since her two brothers and she shared the same time zone, let alone home.
Why did that name ring a bell? Rob?
‘Yes. Older, pain in the ass brother, who sometimes thinks he’s my dad!’ She smiled, moving her book aside and leaning her elbows on the table. ‘I mean my dad’s still around, but Rob takes care of all of us. My mum passed away when I was fourteen and he just sort of took over. Dad was a mess and well, he’s in his seventies now, so it made sense.’ She looked far away for a moment, then returned to reality, returned from a moment of sadness that Rose knew only too well; missing a loved one was something you never got over. ‘Dad married a younger woman you see.’ She winked cheekily. ‘Rob was born when dad was already in his late forties, and well, I came in his late fifties.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess they wanted more kids in between but it never happened. So just the two of us, in that big house, and then dad of course. The rest of the family lives further away.’
‘It’s nice though, that he’s so protective and you’re obviously close, both my brothers live abroad. One in the RAF, he’s currently in America and the other emigrated to Australia to become a marine biologist. My parents live in Edinburgh, so I’m here all on my lonesome.’ Rose couldn’t help but notice the effortless way the two women had just slipped into sharing life stories. It really felt as if she had always known Abby.
